Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 84075 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84075 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
“Trying isn’t enough. I need you to give yourself over to me, Kat. I know that’s demanding. I’m selfish and uncompromising, and I won’t take it easy on you. But if you give me what I want, I swear, I’ll give you more in return.”
My mouth opens for a moment and I think of that kiss, our first kiss, the stolen kiss in the back of that cab, of his taste and his groan, and the whimper that escaped my lips, and the way I’ve been bending the memory of that moment over and over in my mind, replaying it and repeating it and obsessing over the details, and how I have him right here in our own bedroom staring down into my eyes. I want another kiss. I want another taste. And most of all, I want to live up to what he’s asking.
I put my hands on his chest. His heart’s racing like mine and a spike of realization drops down into my core. This is a man, Ford’s a person, a human with feelings and wants and needs, hopelessly complex and inevitably flawed, but he’s right here and he’s solid and handsome and beautiful and maybe that’s enough for right now.
“You’re asking a lot from me,” I say softly, nearly panting now. “Do I get to make demands too?”
“Go ahead. I want you to want something.”
“No matter what happens, promise you won’t hurt me.” The words come out in a tumble and I don’t know where I find them, but it’s like they’ve been waiting deep down inside of my body for this moment. I feel a flash of Sara Lynn, a flash of my grandfather, a flash of my uncles and aunts and cousins, the whole family hurting me again and again, my mother and her addiction and the drugs that ruin her, and my missing father, and all the little ways I’ve failed and given up and let go and given in. I feel it all in that one request, and for a second, the room goes still.
His grip in my hair loosens. His mouth opens and works, but he says nothing. There’s a strange pained look in his eyes like he’s digesting something sharp and ugly, and he’s afraid it’s likely to tear through his stomach and rip the rest of him to little pieces. I don’t want him to hesitate. It kills me that he’s not speaking. I’m not asking for much—I’ve never asked for much in my life, I’ve never been a nuisance, never been a bother, always did my best to remain unobtrusive and quiet and out of the way—but now I have my own reasons, my own stipulations and provisions and requirements. All I need is for him to promise not to hurt me. That’s all I need.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” he whispers and it’s like he’s stabbing himself in the heart and I don’t understand why. “I can’t promise that I won’t.”
I feel like I’m falling again. “Why not?” I blink back tears, and I feel stupid and foolish and childish. What a silly, naive thing to want, and now I wish he’d let me go and we could forget about all this.
But his grip in my hair tightens again, and his face takes on a serious stare as he meets my eyes like he’s determined to make me grasp something out of reach.
“What we’re doing is complicated and painful, but I promise that I won’t ever let anyone else hurt you. Not your family, not my family. You’re mine to hurt if that’s what happens.”
“But you can’t protect me from you?”
“I don’t think anyone can protect themselves from me.” He stoops down and his lips brush against my jaw. “I swear I’ll give myself to you, fully and without hesitation, if you do the same. I promise I’ll protect you. That’s the best I can do.”
I let his words sink in. It’s not what I asked for, but it’s close, it’s closer than anyone’s ever offered, and if I’m honest with myself, I think I always knew that Ford himself was the problem, not my family, not his family, but Ford. He’s dangerous, and letting myself get tangled with him is like begging someone to come here and jam a spear down my throat, but I’m so beyond caring at this point.
“Then I guess I should start looking for couches,” I say.
And Ford laughs and lets me go, and I laugh back, and the tension between us only grows and nothing’s been resolved, but we’re doing this and doing it for real.
Chapter 13
Kat
Istand alone in the bathroom—my new bathroom with its pretty fixtures and big mirror—and stare at myself. I stare at my shirt, thin white cotton with “St. Jude Academy” in blocky yellow letters across the chest, a shirt I’ve had for most of my life, and my little gray shorts that show off a lot of my legs, and I never realized how little my pajamas cover up.